


bane of my existence

by shanlyrical



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Clothed Sex, Hate Sex, M/M, Non-Human Genitalia, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Undercover Missions, Xeno, set during the Rako Hardeen story arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-03-31 19:01:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13981350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shanlyrical/pseuds/shanlyrical
Summary: “That’s it. I’ve had enough of your bickering. Get a room!” Moralo Eval snapped.Rako Hardeen shot Cad Bane one last glare before subsiding into baleful silence.





	bane of my existence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fayharley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fayharley/gifts).



“That’s it. I’ve had enough of your bickering. Get a room!” Moralo Eval snapped.

Rako Hardeen shot Cad Bane one last glare before subsiding into baleful silence.

Bane merely shrugged, nonchalant, pretending nothing untoward had occurred, and began to clean his teeth with a toothpick. Humans could be so amusing when they got themselves all riled up, and Hardeen was proving especially easy – not to mention fun – to goad into losing his temper.

Eval, however, clearly wasn’t in on the joke. “Actually, you know what? I’m taking the sleeping berth,” he announced. “You two can work out your differences right here in the cockpit. Wake me when we make planetfall at Serenno.”

And with that, he was gone before either Bane or Hardeen could muster a suitable rejoinder.

Alone. At last.

Though Hardeen didn’t seem immediately inclined to renew their argument. Instead, he turned to face the shuttle viewport, stroking his chin absentmindedly while watching the swirling cosmic lights of hyperspace. In fact, he was acting like he’d forgotten about Bane.

Couldn’t have that, could we?

“I’m not finished with you yet, Hardeen.”

Hardeen heaved a heavy sigh. “Of course you aren’t,” he said wryly.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned in this business,” Bane continued, “it’s that I trust my instincts.”

“It’s always good to trust your instincts.”

“And you know what my instincts tell me?”

“No?”

“ _That you aren’t Rako Hardeen_.”

Hardeen blinked. He seemed mildly surprised by this revelation, to say the least. “What? Who else would I be?”

Idly, Bane flicked his used toothpick onto the cockpit floor and stepped closer to Hardeen. Not close enough to be a threat – but it could become one. Fast. “Good question. So I’m going to ask you one of mine: Do you know what you’re best known for?”

“I’m the best marksman this side of Concord Dawn. I killed the Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi. Everyone knows that,” Hardeen said. His arms were crossed proudly over his chest.

“Wrong answer,” Bane hissed. “Everyone knows that Rako Hardeen is _the biggest cockslut_ this side of Concord Dawn.” He stepped even closer to Hardeen. _Now_ it was a threat.

“Oh.”

“For some strange reason, you don’t strike me as the cockslut type. Correct me if I’m wrong.”

Hardeen blinked again and shrugged. He was acting casual, but Bane could detect a distinct tenseness to the line of his shoulders. “Maybe I just haven’t been in the mood lately,” he said slowly. “Or maybe you just aren’t my type. Or…”

“Or?”

“Or maybe you _are_ my type, and maybe I _am_ in the mood…for something. Right. Now.”

And with that declaration, Hardeen launched himself at Bane.

Or, rather, his knee launched itself in the direction of Bane’s groin.

It connected, but Bane was unfazed.

“What the—?!”

Bane laughed. Humans could be such foolish creatures. How easily they forgot that not every sentient bipedal species in the galaxy shares their anatomy – or their anatomical weaknesses.

 _He_ didn’t wear his testes on the outside. (His penis may have peeked out briefly, though. Hardeen’s self-evident sense of grievance was…cute.)

In any case, it was simplicity itself to turn Hardeen’s attack back onto him, redirecting the momentum of his next clumsy swing at Bane’s jaw and ramming him face down onto the pilot’s console.

“Oof!” Hardeen let loose a string of Mandalorian obscenities, too fast for Bane to translate, but he got the general idea. Bane had Hardeen’s wrists pinned securely above his head, and Hardeen’s bucking and twisting and writhing was doing wonders for Bane’s mood.

His penis was fully engorged and everted now, emerging of its own accord from the convenient slit in the center of his pants and dripping eager, pearly-green droplets of fluid onto Hardeen’s still clothed buttocks.

Bane’s red eyes narrowed in anticipation. Yes, this was gonna be _good_.

It took but a moment to adjust his footing, and then he was driving straight through the seam of Hardeen’s pitiable clothing and the wrinkled pucker of his anal sphincter, into his hot, clenching passage. A single, long stroke, all the way to the hilt.

He was much tighter than Bane had expected. Almost virginally tight, in fact.

Hardeen jerked and wailed.

Humans, with typical chauvinism, called it “traumatic insemination.” They made the Duros style of mating sound violent and uncivilized.

But from the point of view of the view of the average Duros – or the not-so-average Duros, since by his own estimation the bounty hunter Cad Bane was anything but “average” – it was the humans who were the uncivilized ones. All that sweating and heaving and thrusting. You’d think it was the humans who needed to tear a new hole into their sexual partners, not the Duros!

Bane didn’t need to thrust. His penis was exquisitely responsive, expanding and retracting, poking and prodding, waving and undulating in perfect tandem with Hardeen’s own involuntary muscle movements. It practically had a mind of its own, finding, touching, and stimulating all the places that would bring Hardeen the most pleasure.

And Hardeen was being pleasured, there was no doubt about that. He was still struggling against Bane’s grip, but it wasn’t to free himself anymore. He’d been overcome by lust, and now he was struggling to get closer, to push himself harder onto Bane’s penis, to reach down and take his own neglected erection in hand.

“More, more, _more_!” Hardeen demanded. He turned his head sideways so that he could look Bane full in the face; his expression telegraphed both transcendent fury and need.

“Quite the cockslut after all, I see.”

Bane decided to take pity on him. He moved one hand away from Hardeen’s wrist and toward the bulge at his groin, biting hard into Hardeen’s shoulder as a warning and reminder not to struggle. He reached under the waistband and pulled out that warm, thick erection and began to pump mercilessly. Hardeen wasn’t his first male human, not by a long shot, and he knew exactly what to do.

“D-dammit, Bane…!” Hardeen’s now-freed hand clutched desperately at Bane’s hip.

It was over quickly after that. Bane’s eyes shuttered, blissful, sharp teeth gnawing into Hardeen’s flesh as he shot pulse after searing pulse of Duros seed deep into Hardeen, and with one last guttural roar, Hardeen came as well, his semen spilling out between Bane’s fingers and falling in viscous strings down to the cockpit floor.

They lay against the console for some time afterwards, still joined, boneless and exhausted, neither one seeming to want to be the first to move. Bane decided that he rather admired the pattern of Duros mating bites on Hardeen’s pale pink skin. It made the human almost – dare he even think it? – attractive. He bent over and added another set to the nape of Hardeen’s neck for good measure.

“You really are becoming the bane of my existence,” Hardeen growled.

Bane tugged a stern warning onto Hardeen’s spent erection. It twitched with reluctant renewed interest. Bane’s penis was twitching with renewed interest too.

They still had hours of hyperspace travel left to go…and he had every intention of making Hardeen live up to his notorious reputation.

“And don’t you forget it,” Bane said.


End file.
